


Dreaming of Gardenias in Moominvalley

by Chill_Cat



Category: Moominvalley (Cartoon 2019), Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson
Genre: Dreams, Dreamsharing, Good Parent Joxaren | The Joxter, M/M, Moomin is Often Worried, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, The Language of Flowers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:34:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26030488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chill_Cat/pseuds/Chill_Cat
Summary: Under The Olives:We never would have loved had love not struckSwifter than reason, and despite reason:Under the olives, our hands interlocked,We both fell silent:Each listened for the other's answeringSigh of unreasonableness -Innocent, gentle, bold, enduring, proud.- Robert Graves' Poems About Love
Relationships: Joxaren | The Joxter/Mymlan | The Mymble, Muminmamman | Moominmamma/Muminpappan | Moominpappa, Mumintrollet | Moomintroll/Snusmumriken | Snufkin
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	1. Chapter 1

Autumn was nearly over. The trees were almost stripped bare; a few browned leaves clinging to some branches were all that remained. The grass was brown and dull, and it looked as dead as the trees surrounding it. The sky wasn't any better either; it was overcast and dark, heavy clouds hung down, the grey cover blocking out the sunlight. A few rays managed to pierce through the dreary sky, but it was few and far between. Moomin sighed, feeling as miserable and dull as the clouds themselves, and leaned on his paw, looking out the window dolefully to the riverbank where Snufkin was busy collapsing his tent.  _ Why, of all days, would Snufkin choose the worst one yet?  _ A small voice in Moomin's head implored.  _ Why couldn't he have left when the sun was still shining, and the leaves hadn't been blown all away?  _ Moomin groaned, thumping his head down on the windowsill, his ears pulled down. 

"Quit moping, won't you?" Little My said as she clambered up beside him. Moomin looked away, his ears flicking in annoyance. "Didn't you hear me!" Little My said, poking Moomin in the snout. 

Moomin jerked back, yelling, "Ow! What'd you do that for?!" 

"Oh shut up, you big sissy! I've been hearing you moan and groan this whole week, and I'm sick of it. If you're going to mope about Snufkin leaving, do it somewhere else!" she humphed and crossed her arms with an angry glare. 

Scooting away from Little My and rubbing his snout, Moomin rolled his eyes at her and tsked.  _ Little My does have a point. _ He thought,  _ but I'm not about to come out and admit it, much less to her.  _ He turned and glanced out the window again and saw that Snufkin was nearly done packing up his camp. His heart suddenly ached, and Moomin felt like he would break out sobbing if he sat there a minute longer. Moomin sighed again, despite himself, and shifted off the couch. He pointedly ignored My's scowling as he padded to his door, his tail swishing behind him. 

_ One...two...three...  _ Moomin counted as he walked down the stairwell, his paw trailing down the banister. Each step downwards made Moomin's stomach sink lower and lower and lower still, and once he had reached the ground floor, he felt as if he wouldn't be able to take another step without keeling over.  _ I say goodbye to Snufkin every year; this shouldn't be making me as sad as it does, _ Moomin reminded himself. __ Despite knowing that, Moomin still felt a familiar ache as he shuffled sadly towards the front door. As he reached the door, a little voice suddenly hissed in Moomin's mind.  _ But what if he doesn't come back? _ Moomin's paw hesitated, hovering over the doorknob.  _ What if he's already left? What if he didn't even want to say goodbye? What if-  _

_ " _ Moomin! Are you going outside?" Moominmamma called from the kitchen, interrupting the little voice. "If you're going out, can you find some pine needles for our hibernation meal?" 

"Yes, Mama!" Moomin called back. 

"Thank you, dear, and come back before dark!" 

"I will, Mama!" Moomin shoved down the little voice and gripped the door handle firmly before stepping out onto the porch. He took a deep, shaky breath and fluffed his fur, then set off towards Snufkin. He felt a wave of relief wash over him as he jogged down, seeing that Snufkin was still patiently waiting for him. 

Snufkin watched Moomin jog down the hill and waved, smiling calmly. Moomin glanced up and waved back, but he stumbled and wobbled, his arms pinwheeling as he fought to regain balance. Gravity won out, though, and Moomin plopped down on his behind, a faint look of surprise on his face. Snufkin couldn't help but chuckle, and Moomin looked down and grinned bashfully, a rosy pink tinging his fur as he got up and brushed himself off. Moomin slowed as he reached the bridge, and he couldn't help but notice just how perfect Snufkin was. He practically glowed, despite the gloomy day, a playful smile playing on Snufkin's face.  _ He's so handsome,  _ Moomin began to think, but he __ quickly shook his head, shoving the thought back with a forceful push. The two stood quietly on the bridge, Moomin shifting his weight back and forth, Snufkin leaning on the railing and staring into the rushing stream below. Before the silence could grow too large, Moomin blurted out, "You're leaving today, right?". He looked worriedly at Snufkin, then looked down at his paws, fiddling with them, a familiar lump forming in his throat. Snufkin nodded and turned towards Moomin, shifting his gaze away from the stream. "I'm afraid so. I need to leave today to beat the storm, you see. Those clouds don't look any friendlier than they did this morning," he said, pointing up to the sky. Moomin looked upwards, following Snufkin's outstretched finger.  _ The clouds do look darker, and the patches of sunlight are smaller than they were earlier,  _ he thought. 

"But you'll return with the Spring, right?" Moomin implored, glancing back towards Snufkin, his paws gripped tightly together at his chest. He inwardly berated himself for sounding so needy, but Snufkin suddenly and firmly laid his hands on Moomin's shoulders, gazing deeply into his eyes. Moomin froze, his paws still clutched towards his chest. 

"Moomintroll. I promise that I'll come back when it's Spring." Snufkin said, his usual lilting tone all but disappeared. 

Moomin quickly glanced away, his face feeling like it was on fire, and fiddled with his paws. "You... you promise?" 

"Yes, Moomin, I promise," Snufkin chuckled, his hands now lightly laid on Moomin's shoulders. "I'll be back before you know it." Snufkin gave Moomin a reassuring pat, then turned and walked to the edge of the forest before looking back and giving a tip of his hat. And so Moomin watched Snufkin walk away into the woods, his heart aching more than ever as the empty trees rustled and swayed in a cold, cold wind. 

\---

Moomin stood and waited until he could no longer see Snufkin's faded green hat bobbing away from him, then gave a great big sigh and turned back to go find the pine needles needed for his family's hibernation meal. 

Wandering through the pine grove, Moomin carefully broke off the branches that he needed, his tail swishing behind him. The trees around him creaked and whispered, and the snap of each limb sounded throughout the forest. Moomin glanced upwards and spotted a flock of geese flying against the backdrop of grey, dreary clouds, their calls echoing around him. Checking that he picked enough branches, Moomin began walking back to Moominhouse, thinking of how so very far away Spring seemed to be.

Moomin stepped up onto the porch and started to open the front door, saying, "Mama! Papa! I'm- oh!" Little My suddenly scurried past, almost tripping Moomin in the process. He staggered for a second, then gripped the doorway, yelling, "Little My! You have got to watch out! I almost fell and dropped all these branches, no thanks to you!" Little My glanced back and snickered, sticking her tongue out at Moomin before scurrying upstairs. Moomin gave an exasperated sigh and hurriedly smoothed down his fur with his free paw. 

"Moomin! Moomin, was that you? Did you get the pine needles?" called Moominmamma. 

"Yes, Mama! Where do you want them?" Moomin stepped inside and shut the door. 

"Inside the kitchen, please!"

Moomin shifted his load of branches and strode into the kitchen where Moominmamma was bustling about, busy with her preparations for Winter. She looked back at him and smiled. "Thank you, dear, just put them here," Moominmama said as she motioned towards a plain white dishcloth on the counter. "And it'd be a great help if you could help your father with putting on the dust covers. I think he's having a little trouble with them, by the sound of it." Moominmama glanced dubiously towards the living room, where Moominpapa was quietly cursing and grumbling to himself. Moomin gave a small laugh and nodded, then laid the bundle of branches out on the counter before padding out into the living room to join Moominpappa.

"Oh, hello Moomin!" said Moominpapa, whose hat was askew and his fur all mussed. He appeared to be in a losing battle with a pile of sheets. "I..erm... Could you give me a hand? These sheets seem to have been charmed by the witch!" Moominpappa heartedly chuckled at his joke while Moomin rolled his eyes and helped untangle the sheets. 

Once Moominpappa and the sheets were all untangled, he repositioned his hat and patted down his fur. "Much better! Thank you, Moomin. Now let's get these accursed covers on! The sooner we're finished, the sooner we can sleep." Moominpapa said, giving a stout hmph and a firm nod. 

Moomin and Moominpapa went about the rooms, tidying up and shifting sheets onto various pieces of furniture. Moomin had just double-checked that a window was properly sealed when Moominmamma called out from the kitchen, saying that the meal was ready. 

"Right on time!" Moominpappa stretched his back and shuffled into the dining room, ho-humming contentedly to himself. Little My rushed down the hall, zooming past Moomin and hopping down the stairs two at a time. Moomin was slower and was only halfway down the staircase when Little My ran on into the dining room.  _ How does she have all that energy?  _ Moomin wondered to himself as he padded along. 

The family sat quietly at the table, and Moomin could feel the onset of tiredness beginning to creep up onto him as he ate his fill of pine needles.  _ Even Little My looks tired!  _ Moomin thought, giving an inward chuckle. Before long, the Moomins and Little My finished their quiet meal. They all shuffled up the stairs and said goodnight to one another, then left to go sleep in their respective rooms. 

Moomin flopped onto his bed, sleep tugging at his eyes. He gave a long yawn and stretched his arms upward, his fur bristling. Moomin blew out the candle on his bedside table and shut his eyes, sighing contentedly.  _ I'll be back before you know it,  _ said Snufkin's voice in Moomin's mind. He burrowed under the covers, his ears the only things sticking out from beneath them.  _ I'll be back... I'll be back... I'll be back... _ Snufkin's voice echoed as Moomin fell fast asleep, dreaming of warm summer days and bright, happy laughter, his breathing slow and easy.


	2. Chapter 2

A month and a half into his winter travels, Snufkin was on his way towards a small village, whose smokestacks he'd spotted while he was hiking down from yesterday's camping spot. It was a pleasantly sunny day out, and as Snufkin wandered through a quiet forest, a playful breeze wound up about him and rustled the trees above. Lightly holding onto his hat, Snufkin looked up as he passed through a small clearing, spotting a fluffy cloud floating across the otherwise clear sky.  _ Wouldn't Moomin love to see that? It looks just like him!  _ Snufkin paused, still staring up at the cloud, then laughed to himself. _ All clouds look like him, I suppose. _ Snufkin could see Moomin in his mind's eye; the way his fur shone when the sunlight hit it just right, his eyes that were so, so blue, and his smile that made the sun itself seem dim. Snufkin remembered Moomin's bright laughter, the way that his eyes twinkled when he looked at him... 

Snufkin shook his head, quickly shoving the memory aside, and shifted his rucksack. More and more often, his thoughts had been turning to Moomin, seemingly without warning.  _ It was difficult this year to see Moomin so sad when I left, so that must be why I'm thinking about him,  _ he reasoned.  _ Moomin is... _ Snufkin paused, his brow furrowed.  _ He's different than the usual sort of friend. I shouldn't be worried that I'm thinking of him, _ Snufkin thought as he walked through the clearing and back into the trees.  _ In fact, it's natural to think of one's friends, especially if you're away for as long as I am.  _ Snufkin gave a resolute nod as if to assure himself that he was right. A kernel of doubt lingered at a corner of his mind, but Snufkin ignored it, as he had spotted a signpost by a small dirt path. 

Snufkin jogged up to the post, pausing to observe it. There were two signs hammered deftly into a tired-looking pole, and although the words were worn, they were still legible.  Rosehip Village Up Ahead was printed neatly onto a piece of wood, a single nail hammered into the middle. Below it,  Athalon Woods was scrawled onto another sign, a crooked arrow pointing towards the forest behind him. Snufkin glanced back at the woods, then turned and walked down the path towards the village, kicking a pebble absentmindedly. 

The entrance to the village was simple,  Rosehip Village carefully inscribed onto the wooden archway. Snufkin paused to admire the rose bushes intertwined with the archway, climbing over and around the structure, its flowers blooming brightly. He carefully plucked one of the many brightly blooming pink roses, spinning it in his hand before tucking it into the band on his hat. His hands in his pockets, Snufkin casually strolled down the quiet street. The buildings about him were well-weathered, their paint long faded, and roofs spotted with moss and lichen. Some houses were covered with ivy, and clotheslines heavy with laundry could be glimpsed from the small alleys. He could hear the sounds of a market nearby, so Snufkin paused to take a look up at the late afternoon sky.  _ It wouldn't do me any harm if I checked it out,  _ he thought as he scanned the skyline for any troublesome-looking clouds.  _ I have enough time to set up camp, and there's almost always something interesting being sold at these kinds of places. _

__ Snufkin paused to adjust his rucksack.  _ Anyways, I'll have something to tell Moomin about once I get back,  _ he thought as he strolled towards a friendly-looking shopkeeper sweeping the front porch of a sleepy general store. After inquiring about the directions towards the market, Snufkin gave a small tip of his hat to the shopkeeper in thanks, then turned down the street. He wandered down a sunny path, a mossy stone wall on one side, and a quiet field on the other. A cow silently stared at him, its tail flicking the flies off its back as it pulled up another clump of grass. Snufkin didn't notice it, though, as he could hear the faint strumming of a guitar, leading him towards the market.  _ I'm close!  _ Snufkin thought, quickening his pace, one hand lightly grasping the brim of his hat as he jogged down the dirt road. Uninterested, the cow meandered off to another patch of grass, its tail swishing lazily behind it. 

As Snufkin turned a corner and the market rose into view, he slowed, taking a breath before strolling into the clearing. Snufkin hummed along to the music, waving at the guitarist playing as he walked past. A small puppet show was playing in a shady corner of the clearing, and Snufkin could see several different stalls. One such vendor was selling numerous antiques, but it looked more like an explosion of junk than anything else. A few stalls were selling food and produce; another was selling wool and refurbished tapestries. Snufkin was looking at a small tapestry depicting a peaceful country hillside when a glimmer flashed at the corner of his eye. He turned and spotted the culprit shining in the dirt, then walked over, curious.  _ What could that be?  _ He wondered, as he crouched down and picked the little object up. Snufkin gave it a quick buff on his sleeve, then smiled as he held it up, catching the lazy afternoon sunlight.  _ A shiny! And a rather pretty one at that,  _ he thought. The glass bead was nothing special, being only a plain translucent blue. It sparked a warm glow in Snufkin's heart, though, and as he twisted it this way and that, an image of Moomin smiling at him suddenly popped into his head. His brow furrowed, and Snufkin slowly lowered the bead, still staring at it.  _ What the..? No, nevermind.  _ Snufkin suddenly shoved his hands deep into his pockets and quickly paced out of the market, the memory of Moomin lingering at the back of his mind. 

\---

Pulling up his line, Snufkin exclaimed cheerfully; he had caught a fat trout and would have a warm, filling meal once it was cooked. As he gazed up at the sky, its clouds tinted pink from the sun casting its fiery red rays across the heavens, a flock of birds passed on up ahead, their bodies highlighted with golden light as they flew onwards.  _ An excellent catch to match a perfect evening,  _ he thought as he wound up his fishing pole. Wandering down the forest path, the final rays of the sun casting deep shadows into the forest, Snufkin spotted a creep scuttling into a hole under a tree's roots and quickened his pace, his shadow bobbing up and down as he jogged back to his camp. 

Snufkin struck up a fire just as the last light from the sun faded away into the night. There were no clouds to be seen, however, so as Snufkin cleaned and cooked the fish, the moon cast its pale glow, and the stars twinkled gently. Snufkin could hear crickets and frogs singing their night songs, and as he ate his meal, an owl hooted off in the distance, its lonely call echoing off into the dark woods. 

The campfire's light flickered around the campsite, casting a warm glow against the circle of trees about him, its glow fading back into the inky darkness of the forest. Snufkin reached into his pocket and took out the bead, flipping it in his hand and watching how the orange hues wavered on the glass. He sighed heavily, turning the bead over and over in his palm.  _ I'm full, I'm warm, I'm dry, and I have everything I need.  _ Snufkin thought to himself. His stomach felt like it was twisting itself into a granny knot, though, and he felt like he'd just run a race with the way his heart was knocking against his ribs. He glanced over to the remains of the trout in the bowl next to him.  _ Maybe there was something in the fish? _ Snufkin shook his head and stretched, sighing.  _ Whatever it is, I'm sure it'll go away in the morning _ , he thought as he crawled into his tent. Snufkin kicked off his boots and took off his hat, carefully placing it down by his bedroll. He laid the bead next to his hat, Snufkin's hand brushing the rose he had picked earlier. His hand faltered, then shot back as he sat back, rubbing his hand as if it were burnt. Snufkin sighed and unrolled his bedroll, shifting under the cover. Snufkin stared at the shape of his hat in the darkness of his tent, then turned his back to it, sighing.  _ I just need some sleep,  _ he thought as he drifted off _. That's all I need...  _

Snufkin shielded his eyes against a bright glow, squinting in the sudden light. His hat was gone, replaced by a flower crown of pink roses. He stepped forward uneasily, then realized that he was standing in a field, the grass swaying calmly in the wind.  _ Snufkin...! Snufkin!  _ A voice called, echoing, sounding like it was far off in the distance. He looked up, and Moomin stood before him, his fur blurry at the edges.  _ Moomin? What are you-  _ Snufkin started to say, but Moomin shook his head and smiled.  _ Come on, Snufkin!  _ Moomin said, his voice somehow still echoey and distant. Moomin took Snufkin's hand and led him through the field, bright laughter surrounding them. Snufkin blinked, and suddenly they were standing face to face, his hands in Moomin's paws. The two of them kneeled down in the grass, and Snufkin noticed a perfectly circular dirt patch between them. He looked back up at Moomin, still holding his paws. Moomin smiled and squeezed Snufkin's hands before reaching out and plucking one of the roses from Snufkin's flower crown.  _ Are you ready?  _ Moomin asked, his eyes now as wide and sincere as they were on the day Snufkin left for his winter travels.  _ I...  _ Snufkin paused, pulling his eyes away from Moomin. Then he turned his gaze back towards him, nodding.  _ I'm ready.  _ The two dug a small hole for the rose, and as Moomin held it delicately, Snufkin shifted the dirt back into the hole and patted it down gently. The rose started singing a slow and peaceful tune once it was planted, and the bead that Snufkin had found earlier rose silently from its center. It floated above them as the music grew louder and rougher, the world around them turning brighter by the second.  _ Moomin? What...?  _ Snufkin's voice sounded quiet, too quiet, but Moomin only smiled and held his hands, his fur blurring away into the background. The bead was back in Snufkin's hand, and as it shone a brighter and brighter blue, Snufkin shielded his eyes against the light, Moomin's happy laughter echoing around him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnd it's up! I had a little trouble with this chapter, so I'm thinking of sticking to the biweekly upload schedule. I hope everyone's doing well and stay safe!


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